


What Goes Around (Or, The Post Nasal Drip Doctrine)

by SBG



Series: Sickness and Health [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve took care of Danny when he was sick, it seemed only right Danny returned the favor. If only he'd have had an inkling what he was getting himself in for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Goes Around (Or, The Post Nasal Drip Doctrine)

**Author's Note:**

> The goal was to get this out precisely to the day of when [The Cold Truth (Or, The Doxylamine Succinate Principle)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1159097) was posted, but alas - the full moon approaches, my clientele consists largely of people with mental health issues, and hence I spent the week exhausted instead of writing. Long story short, this is a companion piece to that one. Post posting editing may occur.

For the first time in a week, Danny felt reasonably human. He had a few lingering traces of the cold from hell that had knocked him flat on his ass, but on the whole was recovered. Actually, no, check that – he was good. He might even venture to call his mood hopeful, at least as close to it as he would ever get. He’d had no idea going into the bout of crud he’d gotten that it would result in Steve landing in bed with him. He jogged up the steps, smiling at what clear memories he had of that day. The foggy flu feeling had blurred some of it. Not the important stuff, not Steve.

Of all the outcomes he could ever have considered might happen after downing that cold medicine, Steve planting a kiss on him hadn’t been a contender. Wild dream he never let himself think seriously about, maybe. Now long after the cold and its worst symptoms had faded, he still couldn’t help wondering if he’d slipped into some kind of feverish hallucination, that he was still unwell and stuck in a particularly clear one yet. His steps faltered for a moment and it almost made him trip. In a ridiculous way, that would explain how positive he felt. Usually at this stage, when something was fresh and new, Danny was already mentally killing it. He’d barely parroted his marriage vows when he was seeing Rachel leave him. But, no, he wasn’t going to go there this time. Not this once. This was his life, not a hallucination, and he couldn’t sabotage it out of the gate this time. 

Steve was different, that was the thing. Danny had known that about Steve from the start, though it had taken him a long while to filter his understanding of it from general to specific, from thinking of his partner as a Neanderthal animal to _oh, that_. That thing he didn’t want so much as need, in any way he could get. Steve had the _oh, that_ in droves, as much as anyone Danny had ever encountered in his life. The man was infuriating in one heartbeat and completely sweet in the next, in every hour of every day. He was exhausting and exhilarating, somehow simultaneously. Danny had settled into living with his predicament. A good working partnership with Steve was great, the friendship that came with it better. Any more than that had seemed unlikely, so Danny had never shot for it. Sure, there’d been moments here and there where he thought, perhaps. Perhaps, perhaps it was him projecting that unconsidered dream into the waking world.

And then Steve had picked a moment when Danny had to have been awful and unappealing to take a risk he was never going to take himself … how could he not find encouragement in that? He’d be a moron not to. 

He disregarded the fact that cold medicine always made him spill his guts, how just that might have pushed his partner along. Or possibly it had dragged Steve right on out there. Danny couldn’t say. He’d been vague, dull and truthy, all over the place. He’d been a mess, frankly. He could easily admit he was the quintessential unreliable narrator of that day Steve had revealed his feelings, but every day since he would swear to his being of sound mind. He’d say that he didn’t give a damn how it had come about as long as he could reap the benefits and since he felt better, he had plans to do so. Big plans.

Oh, yes. Danny was enjoying this optimistic streak of his. It was a relief, after all the shit with Rachel. And then more shit with Rachel all over again. That part of him he kept beneath layers he didn’t want to touch himself had been hoping for that third-time’s-a-charm in love; he guessed he’d gotten it, only not where he expected. He was presuming the shit out of Steve’s intentions, of course, but he didn’t know anyone who’d voluntarily kiss a person looking like Danny felt a few days ago, if there weren’t some feelings there. He grinned as he strolled into HQ, where his uplifted spirits were shot down almost immediately by Kono coming at him like a slender but powerful freight train. The glower on her face was terrifying and familiar. 

“You. This is your fault, you _fix it_ ,” Kono said tightly, then slapped a cylindrical object into his hand and stalked away.

“Welcome back, Danny,” Danny muttered to her back, remembering very clearly how she had been the one leading the campaign to kick him out of the office until he was well. Or at least no longer contagious. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Danny.”

He glanced at what Kono had gifted him with – a can of disinfecting spray. His brain also called to the fore the aerosol hiss of the can’s discharge aimed at his person by Kono. Frowning, he set the can on the smart table and looked around for everyone else. He knew they were here, he’d seen their cars as he’d arrived. Steve was in his office, but Chin and Lori were nowhere to be seen. He stared toward his partner, heart tripping in that light way that came with infatuation. He hadn’t seen Steve since yesterday morning, when he’d left Danny’s residence of the moment and gone home to do all of the things he’d planned to do while instead ending up nursing Danny back to health. 

The thought that should have occurred to him a long time ago did only as he stood at their shared place of work. Namely, what would this shift in their relationship during off hours mean to their time on the job? Danny was a worrier. This was something that should have been at the forefront of his mind, even when sick as a dog. He hated to say it, but this was what he got for putting all his eggs in the optimism basket. He had a horrendous thought about what the it was Kono wanted him to fix. It was possible Steve had already had a change of heart about them and, in direct opposition to his SEAL training, had been showing his hand all morning. Everyone knew when something wasn’t right with Steve. 

_Danny_ knew. He took a deep breath and headed for Steve’s office, deciding it was better to rip the band aid off fast. If he didn’t, he’d end up a miserable wreck and suffer a wicked case of whiplash from the rapid turnaround in mood.

“Hey, you,” Danny said when he was at the door. “Morning.”

Steve looked up, movements uncharacteristically sluggish. He blinked at Danny, a slow slide of eyelids that were not quite in synch. 

Well, uh. Okay. The brilliant detective in Danny set aside his insecurities and put the obvious pieces together. Steve had looked like his usual, stupidly-handsome self a little more than twenty-four hours ago. This morning he looked like he’d been mostly dead for a day. Danny cringed, recognizing the hollowness in Steve’s eyes, the chapped redness of his nose. His partner’s condition was partly his fault. He couldn’t deny Kono was right about that, but he wasn’t going to take full blame. After all, Steve was the hopeless closet romantic who’s kissed him – more than once – when he was plainly in the communicable stage of illness.

“Danny,” Steve said, his Ns sounding a lot more like Ds and nuh-uh. No.

Nope, _that_ wasn’t doing a thing for Danny. Empathy shot through him, though. He knew how exhausted and fuzzy Steve had to be feeling at this point. Still, he was just recovering himself. He slid a look at the disinfecting spray, thinking how very far away the smart table looked. The sound of Steve honking into a tissue jolted him physically and mentally. Shit, Steve had in-sickness-and-in-healthed him already, and his first thought was of his own weakened immune system. He was a prince among men. 

“You look like you feel lousy,” he said. “What are you even doing here?”

He already knew the answer. Steve was doing the same thing he himself had done last week – trying to prove he wasn’t sick at all by coming into work. To spread the germs, Kono would say. Danny flashed back to her expression when she’d armed him and then fled, shuddered. They were actually lucky she was afraid of catching something herself. When Kono had a fight to win, she was scary. 

“It’s not that bad.” Steve scowled as his eyes started to water. “I think you were just exagger…choo!”

Danny backed up a step, though he was already well out of the immediate blast zone. Like he’d said, he still had some lingering effects of his own cold. No way was he getting reinfected. He shrugged at Steve’s baleful glare. 

“Points for style on that one.” Danny gestured with both hands. “Up, up. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I said I’m _fine_.”

The peevishness was almost cute. Danny distinctly remembered Steve assuring him he’d never been sick a day in his life, something about the training he had to do to be a badass motherfucking SEAL made it virtually impossible for him to catch a virus. All while giving him adorable, almost domestic pecks on the mouth as he brought tissues or orange juice or soup. He was a decent enough guy to not rub it in right now. And there went his plans to see else they could get up to besides kissing. Danny made a mental calendar and circled the new date. Nothing for at least seven days.

“I know, it’s just a cold. Been there, got the T-shirt, remember?” Danny waved his hands again. “Thing is, while it won’t kill you, I’m afraid Kono will … and me while she’s at it. So, up.”

Steve sighed, then stood without further protest. His shirt was buttoned wrong.

H50H50H50

Danny had barely started cutting up the cantaloupe when there came a loud, wracking cough from upstairs, followed by a bell ringing. He sighed and raised his face to the ceiling for a quick confab with an invisible being he didn’t believe in except for on special occasions. Like this. He’d believe in anything, if he could just have a few minutes of peace. He waited a second or two, hoping this time the beck and call would fade away. Just as he started slicing the melon again, the bell sounded a bit more stridently. Steve was lucky he was loved, that much Danny knew.

“Ask not for whom the bell tolls,” Danny grumbled, gave his hands a quick rinse and dry and headed for the stairs.

He was a father. Sometimes, Danny would allow himself the ego of thinking he was even a good one. Though he wasn’t a man known for patience in most aspects of his life, with children – his, specifically, of course, but in general as well – he could sit very still while little hands clumsily tried to paint a fingernail or two without losing his shit. It was this that had led him to the erroneous conclusion that taking care of a sick, very much adult Steve McGarrett would be a piece of cake. He had years of experience taking care of Grace through colds, flus and even the chicken pox. He’d heard every whine under the sun. Now he knew that what he’d always believed was true, his daughter was an abnormally good kid and Steve was just abnormal.

He wasn’t being fair and he knew it. He was simply exhausted, tetchy, and in need of an uninterrupted meal, a shower and a nap. Not necessarily in that order. He’d settle for one of the three, if he were honest. Danny hadn’t re-caught the cold, but he might as well have. As it turned out, Steve really had never been sick in his life and, being the overachiever that he was, quickly went from run-of-the-mill cold to bronchitis with a final chaser of laryngitis due to copious amounts of post nasal drip and coughing. Hence the bell. Hence being bed-bound, though by now Danny more than suspected Steve was just toying with him. On any given day, there was no keeping the guy down, so a case of escalated crud shouldn’t slow him down. He knew his partner was enjoying the shit out of making him run up and down the stairs.

“You rang, Steve?” 

“Did I remember to tell you that I have a melon baller?” Steve whispered, barely audible from where he sat propped against a mound of pillows. “I like my cantaloupe pieces round. It’s in the junk drawer. Next to the fridge.”

“No, you failed to mention that,” Danny said, making sure to sigh. Then he lied. “Look, buddy, it’s already cut, so you’re just going to have to go ball-less.” 

He heard it the second it was out of his mouth and raised a pre-emptive finger to stay Steve’s grin. 

“Save your voice and don’t say it. You remember anything else you’d like while I’m up here?”

Steve shook his head, so Danny started back to the kitchen to purposely not ball Steve’s melon. He had never once seen his partner eat a round piece of fruit that hadn’t been designed that way by nature; he wasn’t about to start now. It should have come as no surprise to him that he made it only three-quarters of the way down the stairs before the bell started ringing again. He clenched his fists. The bell had been the worst idea ever. It wasn’t that he minded helping Steve out while he was sick, at least he hadn’t at the start of this, and since Kono had imposed a ban on both of them (she’d gone to the governor, which Danny still couldn’t believe) he figured he might as well reciprocate what Steve had done for him. 

It was that Steve was being a bit presumptuous with the whole thing.

Danny tried to find that inner happy place he’d had back before he knew what Steve was like when he was sick and thought he was about to enter into happily ever longer than five minutes with the guy. He didn’t dawdle, though, because if he heard that bell repeat for whatever this was, he was going to do something unfriendly with it that would make Steve forget his fragile lungs and AWOL voice. 

“I remembered something else,” Steve said when Danny crossed the threshold. 

“So I gathered,” Danny said, as pleasantly as possible. He really did remember Steve felt miserable and that kind of thing changed people into tousle-haired, annoying, alternate-universe evil twins of themselves. Case in point, himself a week and a half ago. “What is it?”

“Can you rub this on my chest?”

Now, Steve’s bronchitis was well beyond the use of Vicks, had been for days, and Danny was a paid detective. He might be a tad off of his game at the moment, given the circumstances, but he knew now this was definitely his partner toying with him. He refrained from rolling his eyes, approached the bed with a mild smile plastered on his face. 

“You can rub it on yourself, you know.” 

“I know. It feels better when you do it.”

Studying Steve’s face for a moment, Danny realized something startling. He might be annoyed with his partner’s bell-ringing antics and demands on a surface level, but at the end of the day, he didn’t really mind as much as he thought. Looking at that earnest, slightly pale face with those ridiculous eyes staring at him, Danny knew he’d go along with pretty much anything because it was Steve. Because Steve would, and had, done pretty much anything for him since the moment he’d handed over a hotel reservation for him and Grace a mere day after they’d met. Because he loved Steve for his unerring loyalty and many other reasons.

So Danny took the tub of Vicks and sat on the edge of the bed, letting his hip touch Steve’s leg. Steve, for his part, watched him intently while he took a small amount of the ointment onto his fingertips and reached for Steve’s bare chest. He rubbed it in small swirls, fingers catching on hair. This simple act struck him as very intimate and he watched his hand move on Steve’s bare skin. He’d never allowed himself to imagine this. The situation wasn’t optimal, but touching Steve like this was still nice. 

“Did you know,” Danny said, scooping out more Vicks, “if you put this on the soles of your feet, that’s really supposed to do the trick?”

Steve shook his head and swallowed a few times. Something flicked in his eyes. 

Danny slid back a ways, shifting the thin sheet off of Steve’s legs. He set the Vicks on the mattress and lifted Steve’s leg, moved around until it was nestled in his lap. He started slathering on the salve, smiling at the twitch this touch provoked. He hadn’t intended on working it in, but he glanced at Steve’s face and caught the blissful expression and decided to go with it. His smile grew wider as he realized they hadn’t done more than kiss, most of those chaste, and now he already knew one of Steve’s hot spots. Steve’s face wasn’t the only give away. 

If his own dick started to come to life at the way Steve’s heel gently brushed against it in time to the massage action, well, that one was obvious. Danny finished with one foot and started on the other, the sharp smell of eucalyptus and camphor the only things keeping this from being out-and-out erotic as far as he was concerned. He dug is thumb into the ball of Steve’s foot, taken aback by the sound that tore out of Steve – a strange, hiccup-y squeak. 

He didn’t have much time to process what it meant before what it meant was demonstrated by a certain Navy SEAL moving like lightning to spread Danny across the mattress and sprawl on top of him. Danny also didn’t have much time to think before their mutual signs of arousal were being lined up (seriously, Steve had skill) and Steve rocked into him. This was a bad idea, it was a terrible, awful … oh. Oh, yeah, that. It was quite possible that loud moan he’d just heard had come from him, not to be outdone in the strange sounds category. He felt Steve tuck his face into his neck and nip there, could feel the smile pressed against his skin. And then a cough, but through it Steve never stopped moving.

“This is a bad idea,” Danny said, panting through another really good thrust. “You know my lungs are sensitive. I swear, if I get bronchitis out of this, I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t,” Steve said hoarsely and pulled back far enough to gaze at Danny. 

Steve might as well have said “I love you” for all the tenderness on his face. He leaned down and brought their mouths together, coaxed Danny to part his lips and let him in with a slow grind of his hips and swipe of his tongue. The kiss was lazy and sweet and so much better than his cold-addled brain remembered it from before. Steve was sure in his movements and intentions, Danny was sure of it as he rode the heady wave of kissing and unhurried frottage.

Danny escaped without getting bronchitis and was very glad for that; the sex was really too good to have to kill Steve off.


End file.
